From the Paint of Babes
by 0x
Summary: A child in Iruka's class paints something startling.


Today, Iruka's pride swelled with the summer heat. This particular student's artwork had greatly improved from the last year's contribution. A great banner of smeared multi-coloured paints hung in the back of Iruka's large, lecture-style classroom. It would dry overnight and then be moved to the cafeteria for the graduation dinner. Students, their families, and teachers would see the fruit of this afternoon's fun. Iruka had instructed his young charges, blossoming more every year, to paint their "Inspiration". He had drawn the kanji for the word on the blackboard, and relaxed (for two seconds before someone threw blue paint at a certain girl).

His eyes skimmed across the grand banner, marvelling at how the young minds have grasped the abstract concept. There was the Hokage symbol, a parent's face, and for some reason a large frog. The final image, tucked away in the corner, caused Iruka to bust out laughing. That was a surprise! A smoosh of green, a blob of brown on top, and a brown pencil line on the face. Himself. Nice to know that Naruto was not the only one to look up to him.

Iruka grinned widely for a moment, until the rest of the picture came to his attention. What was...? The same green rectangle with legs, but this time there was grey on the top. White paint mixed with a little black. Most of the figure's face was obscured. Iruka stared at it in surprise. The same young child sought to be like Iruka and also like Kakashi. This made little sense to the chuunin teacher, who considered the lazy, late, disrespectful and deadly jounin as far different from himself as could be found in Konoha.

Iruka stepped closer to the offending artwork. The figures were very close together (space had been limited on the banner, but still, it was as though the artist had not wished his work to be noticed) and there was something small nagging Iruka. He leaned forward until his nose was almost touching the paper.

Undeniable. Incomprehensible.

Iruka and Kakashi were holding hands.

His head snapped upright and he inhaled. Who would? Why? What to do about? Maybe it meant nothing, children drew the strangest things with seemingly no reason behind it. He couldn't let this be displayed in front of all those people. He descended the stairs to his desk and rummaged for some paint. It was nothing, really, but it could be taken the wrong way. People would talk. They'd say the child had seen the two ninja together somehow, having a clandestine illicit affair, perhaps in that very classroom! Iruka did not want to experience the scorn of parents or faculty, even if it was baseless.

The was a sudden POP! and the fwoosh of air filling a vacuum. Iruka whipped around wildly, a guilty look on his face. There he stood, Iruka's partner in _someone's_ mind.

"The Hokage wants to talk to you."

Iruka blinked. Somehow, he had expected something more than a simple message relay. "Since when do you deliver the Hokage's summons?"

The other man shrugged. "Since I was the closest person at hand."

He sighed, a small tube of children's paint in one hand. "I will be there in a moment."

"No. Now." Kakashi impassive face did not move, at odds with his casual body language. Iruka had never really been able to discern what the man truly thought at a given moment.

"but I-" Surely the Hokage could wait one minute while he-

"Now."

Iruka sighed and dropped the paint on to his desk. A puff of vapour, and he was gone. Kakashi, alone in the room, wandered over to Iruka's private workspace.

Iruka fidgeted. He wrought his hands, he chattered aimlessly to anyone who spoke to him first, he drank far too much of the overly sugary punch that was always present at these types of events. The Hokage had kept him busy all night, poring through old archive, and needed something to keep him somewhat alert. His nerves were on fire; a giddy tingle of nervousness overcame him. Would anyone notice? Would one person happen to look in that little corner of the banner? He vividly imagine the angry letters, parents ripping their students out of class, perhaps even a reprimand for lewd behaviour. Perception was reality, after all. Would anyone believe him if he denied having lusted after an experienced, fit, mysterious older man? Especially since he had lived alone for all these years?

Iruka almost yelped in surprised when someone popped a balloon at the far end of the room. Room full of ninja-families. Sharp things are normal. Just concentrate on normal. Nothing weird to see here, move along...

The small ceremony progressed. People clapped as names were read, certificates of completion were handed to small, squishy children who really couldn't care less. Iruka stood up with the other faculty and bowed as his name was read in recognition. Was it over yet?

Mercifully, he could finally leave the venue. He vaulted over buildings, seeking escape from the constant moving lips, the irregular jolts of laughter and the feeling that it was all somehow directed at him. Trees were more numerous here; their silent embrace welcomed him. Iruka sighed with relief and let the cool night air wash over him.

A twig snapped behind him. Iruka turned, quick as a nine-tailed fox. Him again!

Kakashi stood nonchalantly, now leaning against the tree. He held pieces of twig in each hand. Iruka scowled in response to the man's sardonic air. So what if the jounin could sneak up on him, follow him, completely unnoticed?

"Congratulations."

"For what?"

"For teaching the latest group of brats what their country looks like on a map."

Iruka snorted. That was about it, really. Everything he taught would eventually be related to ninja work. From simple geography to complex politics.

Ignoring the intruder on his private time, he turned away and stared at the sky. Iruka swivelled his neck from side to side, trying to ease the tension that had built up. A bird chirped in the silence. Iruka's muscles slowly relaxed. Even his hand, which he hadn't realized had been clenched into a fist, released itself.

A moment passed. Iruka stepped forward a tiny bit to begin the journey back to his empty apartment. Something stopped him in his tracks. Kakashi had slid his hand across Iruka's own, his fingers tightening until the fleshy tips pressed against the back of Iruka's hand. They were scarred, but warm.

Iruka stared at the other man in confusion. He opened his mouth to question his action, but was silenced by Kakashi's movement. They stood face to face now. Iruka had never been this physically close to Kakashi before. The dark mask was taunt enough across his face that it felt as though it wasn't even there. Iruka felt his heart beat faster. Kakashi leaned in towards him slightly and tilted his head. Was he going to-? Iruka couldn't react, couldn't even think to know whether he wanted to stop the man or not.

"Would it really be so bad?" Iruka could almost feel the movement of Kakashi's lips as he spoke. The man let go of his hand and stepped away. Iruka felt an unexpected pang of disappointment.

"Answer me later." With that, the jounin was gone.

Iruka raised his hand to his lips. He knew the answer.


End file.
